Crux

At the end of a hallway there are two closed doors which face each other. Between them, on a small table against the wall, the soft radiance of a lamp hollows out the gloom of that windowless region. It is known that the door to the left opens on a closet filled with junk, a collection of detritus so high and dense that it might never be explored completely. The other door leads to a room wherein dwells an accretion of loathsome utterances. But the crux of the matter is not to be found in the contents of the rooms or the doors, nor in the lamp or the hallway itself. No, the main thing is that I predicted them all. This place and its objects are exactly as they should be